A Disremembered Heritage
by DragonsChild.96
Summary: We all know the story; Eddie-boy left and Jake became Bella's "sun". Unfortunately, we all also know that everything changed after that disastrous movie date. But what if Bella's illness was more than it seemed? What if Bella didn't know everything about her heritage? What effect could a single kiss have? (Begins during Chapter 9 of New Moon.)
1. Idealist

**WARNING: **This story will be focusing quite a bit on how the wolf affects the Pack members. If you're looking for something light(er), I recommend "Loba Bella's Tale" by lifelesslyndsey (a great story, for sure!).

This story is rated "M" for a reason, and I will go into wolf social structure and habits (including those relating to mating). If this makes you squeamish, I recommend finding a different story. Though my work isn't necessarily considered "dark", some scenes may be considered bestial.

* * *

**Prologue:**

**"I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way." ~Carl Sandburg**

The first time is always painful- a sharp, searing agony that rips its way through the body and destroys all traces of serenity hampering its path. Technically, it lasts only seconds- a mere minute at the most- yet it feels like an eternity in those moments. Luckily, that pain fades with experience and time until it's dismissed and ignored. The ache though, beginning days before as a flicker and slowly building into a raging inferno. The feeling of being reshaped- remade- into something seemingly alien-different. It never fades. Seeking, dreaming, of finding release in some form or another, but never finding it.

My name, that's not important, and my story's one that's been told a thousand times, a thousand different ways.

The following story is the truth, such as it may be, and life is cruel and painful. Dreams are crushed, hopes are rebuilt, and thoughts re-forged. _There is no perfect happily ever after._


	2. Two Evils

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephenie Meyer, and therefore do not own the Twilight Series. Nor do I own any of the traditional Quileute stories, legends or practices contained herein- the Quileute tribe website has records of all stories (besides those created by Stephenie Meyer) available for perusal by the public. The Quileute Native American peoples are a fascinating culture and any information shared within is not meant to disrespect them in any way. Some events and facts I incorporate are true, and I apologize to any who may be offended by them. (This will be my only disclaimer. This is a Fanfiction site; if I actually had rights to these stories, I would be publishing them for money.)

**AN:** From this chapter onward, they only author's notes will be a "Thank You" to my reviewers, and any critical information I feel my readers need to know (possible writing breaks, important question answers, et cetera).

**THANK YOU: Beaches of La Push**, **Dottyanne**, **guest** (whoever you may be), **mrslisablack**, and **smileygirl2455.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"**Between two evils, I always pick the one I've never tried before." ~Mae West**

**Bella**

My mother never talked about her parents when I was young, everything I ever knew about them came from a small, half-made scrapbook she had started during one of her flights of fancy. It only had three pictures of my grandparents contained within it shallow pages; the first was of their wedding, the second was a family photo from when my mother was young, and the last was of my grandmother holding an infant me while my grandfather smiled over her shoulder. I had asked her about them- claiming we were doing a family tree project in school- she told me their basic information; full names, birthdates, and a couple other trivial facts. But, when I tried to dig deeper, she had shut down and sent me to my room. I called my dad shortly thereafter, hoping he would answer my questions, but he had just given me the same information.

When I visited him that summer, I interrogated him about them relentlessly- he eventually gave in and told me the reason nobody ever talked about them; their deaths were the reason my parents had spilt up. I looked at the pictures in a new light afterwards; the beautiful Quileute woman held tightly in the arms of her white husband. I could tell many of my facial features came from her, but I supposed my hair and skin came from my father's side.

I had let go of the issue and pushed them from my mind, after that. I assumed it wasn't worth the pain my questions would bring… I didn't know then that my ignorance was just as dangerous.

~***~ (Some of the following was taken from New Moon, Chapter 9) ~***~

I grumbled to myself; a horrible night ruined even further by Mike's gagging in the backseat. I weighed the reasons for the outing- Charlie, Charlie, and Charlie- against the trip itself… and suddenly, my dad's worry over me sounded much more appealing. Though, Jake's presence did help lessen the blow. I peered over at said boy- man, I amended- and took in his flushed skin and tense muscles, and I was seriously starting to worry about him.

Mike groaned and threw up in the bucket Jake had shoved into his sweaty hands on our way out of the theatre. I grimaced, hoping my own stomach could stand the sound and smell. Jake anxiously looked over his shoulder to ensure his precious car hadn't been defiled.

The trip back home felt so much longer than the drive to the theatre. Jake was quiet, thoughtful. His arm was wrapped around me, protecting me from the cold air blowing in through the open window. I stared out the windshield, consumed with guilt. It was wrong to encourage Jake- pure selfishness. It didn't matter that I'd tried to make my position clear… If he felt any hope- at all- that this could turn into something other than friendship, than I obviously hadn't been clear enough.

How could I explain so that he would understand? I was an empty shell; like a vacant house- condemned- for months, I'd been utterly uninhabitable. With Jake's help, I'd improved quite a bit. He had repainted and refurbished me; I was no longer in complete disrepair… But, that was all- just a slight makeover, all a paint job does is hide the cracked walls and broken windows. He deserved better than that- better than a one-room, falling-down fixer-up-per. I was convinced that no amount of investment on his part could put me back in working order. And yet, I knew I wouldn't send him away- I was too selfish.

I drove Mike home in his Suburban, while Jake followed behind us to take me home… Jake was quiet all the way back to my house, and I wondered if he was thinking the same things I was; maybe he was changing his mind... It was wrong, but I hoped he wasn't.

"I would invite myself in, since we're early," he said as we pulled up next to my truck, "but I think you might be right about the fever… I'm starting to feel a little… strange."

"Oh no, not you too! Do you want me to drive you home?"

"No." He shook his head, his eyebrows pulling together, "I don't feel sick yet, just… wrong. If I have to, I'll pull over."

"Will you call me as soon as you get in?" I asked anxiously.

"Sure, sure." He continued frowning, staring ahead into the darkness and biting his lip.

I opened the door to get out, but he grabbed my wrist tightly and held me in place- I couldn't help noticing how nice his hot skin felt against mine, "What is it, Jake?" I inquired.

He seemed to think about the question for a moment before answering, "There's something I want to tell you, Bella… but I think it's going to sound kinda corny." I nodded, biting my lip nervously. "It's just that… I know you're unhappy a lot. And, maybe it doesn't help anything, but I wanted you to know that I'll always be here for you. I won't let you down- I promise you can count on me, not matter what." He turned to look me in the eye, "Wow- that does sound corny." He laughed lowly, and the sound sent shivers up my spine. "You know that, right? That I would never, ever hurt you?"

I smiled at him, "Yeah, Jake, I know that- and I already do count on you… probably more than you know." A smile broke across his face the way the sunrise set the clouds on fire, and the moment of elation that passed over me was confusing… I felt happy purely because he was happy?

He let go of my wrist, and I instantly missed the contact, "C'mon, let me walk you to the door." He didn't give me a chance to protest before he opened his door and stepped out into the night. I sighed, then took a deep, fortifying breath to brace myself, then followed him up to the shelter of the porch. I tripped on the last step and he caught me, steadying me against his broad chest.

"Thanks." I mumbled embarrassedly, feeling the dark blush stain my cheeks. His chest rumbled and I scowled, knowing he was laughing at my clumsiness.

"Can't go a single day without klutzing out, can you Bells?" I turned my head to glare up at him, and his face was mere inches from mine. I gulped, the anger washing from me like a flash flood. I could feel his overly warm breath on my face. His eyes were dark, and held a strange look in their depths, "You're so beautiful." He breathed and his voice was husky. If anyone else had said the same, I would have denied it immediately- but this was _Jake_… my best friend. I bit my lip, unwilling to move and interrupt the moment. One of his hands moved from my back, and it brushed my shoulder and neck as he set it against my cheek. He ran his thumb across what was showing of my lower lip before pulling it free of my teeth. I felt my blush grow even darker- I must have invented a new shade of crimson by now. My eyes drifted closed and within moments, his burning lips met my own. I don't know what prompted me, but something about the kiss made it impossible for me to push him away. It was a complete contrast from the cold embrace that was so familiar and yet… it felt completely right.

I lifted my own hands from his sides to wrap them around his neck. His right arm tightened from its position on my waist, and his large hand fit itself into the small of my back- pressing me closer to him. I opened my mouth to gasp in oxygen, and he instantly infiltrated it- his tongue coaxing my own into a battle for dominance. This was going so much further than any kiss I'd shared with _him- he _was always _so careful_ to keep the poor, breakable _human_ safe.

Jake slowly ended the kiss, pulling away millimetre by millimetre until we were resting out foreheads together, "We…" I took a deep breath, "probably shouldn't have done that." Jake mumbled something incoherently under his breath, but didn't respond any further.

An odd look passed over his face and his gently pushed me away, "I really think I'd better go home."

I nodded, stepping back, "That sounds like a really good idea." He laughed and stepped past me to walk down the porch stairs, but he stopped to give me a quick peck on the cheek as he went by. I turned to watch him, a light drizzle was starting and creating a fine mist. He waved as he opened the door to his Rabbit, "Don't forget to call me!" I yelled to him, waving back.

"Sure, sure." He called back and I frowned at his dismissal. I watched him go, and he seemed to be in control of the car, at least. As soon as he was out of sight, I backed up until I my back hit the door- I fumbled with the doorknob for a minute until I was finally able to get a stable hold of it and open the door. I leaned against it and took slow steps backward till the door hit the hallway wall.

I didn't mean to make any noise, but I guess I must've because Charlie came out of the living room- drawn away from some sports game, "Movie over already?" He asked, sounding surprised. He was keeping half-an-eye on the TV through the doorway- must be an exciting game.

"Mike got sick," I explained shortly, "some kind of stomach flu."

"You okay?" He seemed genuinely concerned- though he was inching his way back toward the living room. I decided to give him an honest answer.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead, "I'm pretty sure I caught whatever Mike has- I'm feeling… off."

He nodded, "Why don't you go to bed?" He suggested, "We'll see how you feel in the morning- if you're not doing any better, I'll call you in sick."

I smiled, thankful for his thoughtfulness, "I'll go to bed in a little bit; Jake wasn't feeling all that great either, and he promised to call me when he got home."

"Alright. I'm going to be up for a while, in case you need me." He gave me one last worried look, and then made his way back to his game. I shivered, and realised I was still standing in the open doorway- I quickly shut the door and stood there staring at the worn wood, still shuddering from the cool air. I glanced at the small clock on the wall, trying to figure out how much longer it would take Jake to get home.

I continued watching the clock as the minutes ticked by; ten, fifteen… Even when I was driving it only took fifteen minutes… and Jake drove faster than I did.

Eighteen minutes.

I picked up the phone and dialled.

It rang and rang- maybe Billy was asleep? Maybe I dialled the wrong number? I tried again. On the eighth ring, just as I was about to hang up, Billy answered, "Hello?" His voice was wary, like he was expecting bad news.

I was startled by his tone, and it took me a moment to respond, "Billy, it's me- Bella." I heard a grunt of acknowledgement, "Is Jake home yet? He left here about twenty minutes ago."

"He's here." Billy stated expressionlessly.

Taken aback, and a little irritated by the man's distance, I was admittedly sharp when I replied, "He was supposed to call me. He was starting to get sick when he left, and I was worried."

"He was… too sick to call. He's not feeling well right now." I frowned over the man's pause- why would he have to think about what had happened? I realized he probably wanted to get back to his son.

"Let me know if you need any help," I offered, "I could come down." I thought of Billy, stuck in his chair, and Jake fending for himself…

"No, no." Billy interrupted my worrying, "We're fine. Stay at your place." Billy's rudeness, if anything, made me even more concerned. I didn't understand why he was being the way he was- Billy had practically become an uncle to me over the years, thanks to his closeness with Charlie.

"Okay." I finally said.

"Bye, Bella."

The line disconnected, and I was left muttering my "Goodbye," to the dial tone.

"That Jake?" Charlie's voice suddenly asked, causing me to whip around in surprise.

"Billy." I wiped a hand across my forehead, suddenly sweating- it felt like someone had turned the temperature up by fifty degrees, "He said Jake was too sick to come to the phone.

Charlie's head cocked to one side, "Bells, you alright? You're looking kind of pale…"

I shook my head, "I'm a little diz-"

The last thing I saw were the floorboards as my world spun.


	3. Two Wrongs

**Thank you: angelina32, mrslisablack, Dottyanne, SugaMiss, **and **Beaches of La Push.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"**If two wrongs don't make a right, try three." ~Laurence J. Peter**

**Bella**

My mind felt scrambled, and I assumed that I was about to start steaming, if I hadn't already. I opened my eyes a crack- I wasn't sure why I had woken up until I saw Charlie standing next to my bed, one hand outstretched as he pulled it away from my forehead, "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He said softly, and I shook my head slightly.

"It's alrigh'." My mouth felt as if I had been chewing cotton. I reached up to rub my eyes sleepily, "Wha' time is it?" My voice was clearer, but still obviously hoarse.

Charlie picked up the glass of water on my bedside table- I absently noted he had put a straw in it- and offered it to me, "I'm leaving for work in a little bit… I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you're not going to school today."

I gave him my best glare, which was admittedly unimpressive given my position. Charlie raised an eyebrow and I sighed, giving up my offended façade, "Yeah… could you also call the Newtons? Tell them I have what Mike has, and that I can't make it in today. Tell them I'm sorry."

"Sure, no problem." Charlie assured me. I thanked him, or at least tried to, as I drifted back into unconsciousness.

* * *

It's interesting; how the mind works- some things fade over time, and are eventually forgotten. Adults have very few- if any- memories from when they are young children, the moments they do remember are often only of traumatic experiences. I remember nearly falling off the docks into the dark water when I was three or four, and hiding in the closet when the other children in ballet were picking on me because of my being so clumsy. My parent's last fight when Renee left Charlie is practically engraved into my brain, yet the little fights they had leading up to then are blurry- like looking through frosted glass in winter.

As we age though, our mind develops, and we are able to recall events with more clarity. And yet… the trauma stays with us. I can no longer remember what James exactly looked like- the colour of his hair or by how much he towered over me. Even the strangely melodic yet dangerous sound of his voice becomes harder to construct with each passing day. There will always be two things that I remember about James with complete clarity: the first is the deep bloody red of his eyes as he joyfully taunted me. The other, the burning pain of his poisonous venom as it slowly worked its way toward my heart. There are few things in this world that can even begin to compare to that agony. I suppose being burnt at the stake might be close- I plan to never find out.

* * *

I knew I was dreaming almost instantly- firstly, because I was standing at a fork in the road. Secondly, there was no way a wolf could be that large in real life, and lastly, said wolf was sitting precisely in the centre of the fork.

I stood there, staring at the obscenely large canine for a few minutes, trying to figure out what it wanted.

"Well, are you going to make a decision?" I blinked, as I knew I had heard a voice, yet the only other animate object present was the wolf.

"This has _got_ to be the strangest dream I've had since the dancing shoes." Was all I said in return, unsure what choice he- the voice sounded male- wanted me to make, "Who are you?" I knew my insatiable curiosity was going to get me in trouble one day, but this was my mind- so what the hell.

The wolf stood, slowly stretching its extremely long limbs, "My name is Levi."

I nodded cautiously, raising an eyebrow, "Bella… but you probably already knew that, seeing as you're in my head." The wolf- Levi- gave me a cocky grin, if that was even possible, but stayed silent. I looked past him to peer down the two roads before me; the first may as well have been paved it was so smooth. The trees on either side were trimmed and the grass was completely even- as if not a single blade dared to grow out of line. It was perfect- too perfect, and I turned to the other road. Road, was giving it too much credit; it was wide for a few feet, but then seemed to instantaneously transform into a deer path. There were rocks and bumps covering the small bit of ground that showed, and the grass was as tall as me in some places, but it was beautiful. Flowers peppered the greenery, and the forest surrounding it seemed to be bursting with life. I looked back to the first road- it seemed dead, abandoned- as if no living creature would even try marring its perfection. I knew in that moment exactly what the wolf had wanted.

"You want me to choose a path." I stated, not bothering with a question.

"Obviously." Levi sounded snarky.

I looked at the roads again, "How do I know which one to pick?"

Levi's eyes glittered, "Follow your heart, no one can make this decision but you, Bella."

I snorted, shaking my head, "The last time I followed my heart, it ended up broken."

Levi nodded sagely, "Let me tell you a story my Grandfather told me, that his grandfather told him;

One time, a long time- back when all the animals were human beings-

Báyak, the Raven, went to visit Pát'sawol, the mole.

He took along his wife, Mrs Báyak.

When they got there, Mr and Mrs Mole prepared food for them.

They gave the visitors what is called camas, or kʷala.

Kʷala is like a small onion. It grows underground in prairies.

The reason Mole can get them is because he's an underground person,

He can go under the ground and dig up the kʷala.

So, Mr and Mrs Pát'sawol prepared the visitors a big dish of camas.

It's a favourite food of Báyak, because it's nice and sweet and soft,

and it's tender, very tender.

When they get through eating, Mr and Mrs Mole gave them a basket

full of kʷala to take home.

There was so much it would last them for three or four days.

While paddling down the river, Báyak got hungry again

and planned how to fool his wife, so he could eat all the kʷala himself.

Mrs Raven was paddling in the front of the canoe, with her back to Báyak.

He started shooting arrows,

Shooting arrows right past her head.

"Keep paddling! Keep paddling!" he shouted at his wife.

"The enemy is after us- there's lots of them after us!" he told Mrs Báyak.

"Don't turn your head around! Just keep paddling and head for shore!"

Raven kept shooting arrows past her, saying, "They're after us! Keep paddling!"

Finally, as they hit the shore, Báyak told his wife,

"You run for the bushes and hide. I'll stay right here."

And she did run and hide.

Old Raven hollered, "Don't you come back until I call you!"

Mrs Raven stayed hidden in the bush for a long time,

and Báyak started eating the kʷala.

Oh-h-h, he used both hands. He wanted to finish it in a hurry.

He got awfully full.

He ate so much camas he swelled up.

Then he jumped out of the canoe and started hopping around on the shore,

hopping around on the sand, to make tracks.

He wanted to make tracks like the enemy, like there had been a lot of enemies.

He did that to fool Mrs Báyak.

Hop around,

Hop around,

Here and there.

Finally, Báyak told his wife that it was safe to come out of the bushes.

"Whew! They left," he said.

When Mrs Báyak returned, she looked in the canoe.

She saw all of the kʷala was gone and got suspicious of her selfish husband.

She said, "My, those tracks look just like yours, old man."

Báyak said, "Ha-ha, you know nobody's tracks look like mine.

There's no comparison to my tracks.

Look at them. There was a lot of enemies.

They beat me up so my head aches. Even my stomach aches."

"Where did all the kʷala go?" She asked.

"They took everything," Báyak said.

"The enemies ate it all. There's nothing left.

I tried to do my best to keep them away, but they ate it all.

And finally they left."

So Mrs Raven had to go home hungry."

I blinked, and then blinked again, "Interesting story- and you tell it very well, but I have no clue what you mean by that."

Levi shook his head, looking amused- if a wolf could look amused, "It means that just because someone's protecting you, it doesn't mean they're saving you. Wood is not the only material masks can be made from, lies and deceit work just as well to conceal one's true face and intentions." He looked me in the eye, "What someone says is not always what they truly mean."

I thought over the words, "You really love speaking in riddles, don't you?" Receiving no response, I turned back to my choices; dead perfection or beautiful chaos… well, put _that_ way, "It was obvious which one I was going to pick from the beginning, right?" Levi laughed, "Will I ever see you again?"

"I am here to advise you, I will be here whenever you need me." His tone was reassuring, and I took a small measure of comfort from it. I walked towards the path on the right. I reached out slightly as I passed Levi, brushing his surprisingly soft fur. I slowly stepped along the first few feet of my chosen path, "Bella," Levi called my attention back to him and I turned to look at him, "one last thing before you go; contact the Blacks before anyone, _anyone_, else. Do you understand?" I nodded cautiously, not quite understanding, despite my answer.

I returned my gaze to the path in front of me and took a deep before continuing in my stride. The grass was closing in on either side of me; I stumbled a little on the stones littering the trail. I reached a turn in the road and I took one last glance back at Levi, only to see a large, strangely familiar, man standing in his place.

Suddenly, I fell forward, going head-over-heels into a hole I hadn't seen. Darkness surrounded me on all sides. One last thing echoed in my mind, "Remember, no one but the Blacks." One moment I was freefalling, the next I hit the bottom, and my world exploded in pain. I didn't even get the chance to scream.

* * *

The theory goes that when a person dies in their dreams, they wake up- usually short of breath and scared out of their wits. Usually. Unfortunately, normal tends to run screaming from me.

I woke up feeling like I had been tenderized by a body builder, and then thrown in the broiler on extra crispy. Not a pleasant feeling. Over the years, due to my clumsiness, I had developed a realatively high threshold for pain. The feeling of being put across the rack, however, caused me to scream bloody murder. I silenced myself by biting my lip, the bitter taste of blood soon filled my mouth, and I realized I had bitten through the skin.

My door flew open, slamming into the wall as Charlie ran toward me. I was distantly surprised, knowing that he had stopped coming to check on me due to my nightmares after the Cullens had left. The baseball bat in his hand made me reconsider his stance, "Bells? Bella, what's wrong?!" His voice was expressing his fear and worry.

I let go of my lip to answer, "Every… everything hur… hurts!" I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming.

Charlie practically leapt across the room to put his hand to my forehead, "Jesus, Bella! You're burning up!" I relished in the brief, cold touch.

He rushed out the door and returned almost immediately with a phone clutched in his hand in place of the bat, "Hold on, I'm calling for an ambulance!"

"No!" My body reacted before my mind could, "Call Billy!" Charlie looked at me incredulously, which I admittedly deserved in that moment, "Trus… Trust me! Plea… Please! Call Billy!" I pleaded with him, having to force my words through the pain.

Charlie huffed, then dialled one of the few numbers I knew by heart, "Billy- no, it's Charlie… yes, I realize what time it is… no, I don't care I woke you… Billy just shut up and listen!" Charlie was shouting into the handset at this point, "Bella's sick, I don't know what with, only that it's not the stomach flu. She woke up screaming in pain and sweating enough to soak the sheets… I _was_ going to call the hospital… she demanded that I call you first… she said everything hurts… Billy, she bit through her lip." Another bout of pain took me, and I scrabbled at the sheets, tearing them. I could hear Charlie calling my name, but it was faint, obscured through the veil of my torture.

* * *

**Jake**

I shut the door behind me, looking up to see my father staring at the phone in his hand with a shocked expression, "What's up?" I asked. He jumped, surprised to see me, though I hadn't been quiet with my entrance. I could hear the dial tone.

My dad shook his head slightly, "Jake, get Sam over here now."

"Why?" What had happened? Confusion reigned my emotions, a short reprieve from the seemingly constant anger I now suffered.

"Jacob!" He yelled at me, "For once in your life just do as you're told!" I flinched, and then ran back out the door I had just closed. I jumped off the porch, feeling the pain and the anger of the phase rip through me as I rushed to fetch my alpha.


	4. Facts First

**AN: **I apologize for the unexpected delay/hiatus. The last two months have been insane, and as such, I haven't been able to write or upload anything. My life is calmer now, and I _should_ be able adhere to some sort of updating schedule. Again, I apologize.

**Thank You: aesir21, natashar, Dottyanne, psychovampirefreak, Twisted Musalih, Jacobfan216 **(X2)**, maijacob, chinadoll381282001, SugaMiss, GoddessxNyte, , ChrissiHR, Justme, Evetjes** and **Blloom1234.**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"**Get your facts first, than you can distort them as you please." ~Mark Twain**

**Sam**

To say I was surprised to see Jacob standing on my back porch was an understatement. I had sent the boy home not ten minutes ago, and the fact that his previous murderous expression had been replaced by a mixture of pain and confusion, just added to my shock. "Jacob, what is it?" I raised an eyebrow, the Wolf urging me to remain in control- to not give in to the immediate wave of worry that swept over me upon the boy's return.

"My dad sent me to get you!" He rushed out- his words nearly blending into a single syllable, and it was only thanks to my improved hearing that I was able to understand him at all, "He didn't say why, only that he needed to see you right now!"

I didn't even think, just reacted- for an elder to summon me in such a hurried manner, something must be truly wrong. I dashed into the kitchen and grabbed the first piece of paper I saw- an envelope from some ad- and pen to jot down a quick note to Emily. It was only in case she came home from the store before I returned, and then I followed Jacob into the woods behind my house, barely pausing to shut the door behind me.

* * *

**Jake**

As Sam and I dashed along the trail to my house, I went over everything that had happened in the past couple of days, trying to determine what would have caused my dad to react as he had. Several scenarios went through my mind, most featuring bloodsuckers, but others involving someone discovering the Pack. The beast deep inside me growled and paced, growing closer to the surface with every worry, disliking the lack of control. I quickly shoved it back into its mental cage. That _monster_ would not reign me, I was its master.

I slowed slightly when I hit the yard, knowing the neighbours would grow suspicious of my unnatural speed… not that they weren't already with my sudden growth spurt- I knew some of those not in "the know" were accusing members of the Pack of using Steroids. I snorted, knowing none of them would believe the truth. I jumped up the back porch and threw the door open, not entirely dissimilar to my entrance just minutes ago.

My father sat across the room, staring at the door with his face set into a mask of indifference. I stepped aside to let my alpha through when I heard him at the doorway.

"Billy, what happened?" Sam asked quickly, striding forward to stand before him. My father glanced at me, and he must have made a mental decision because he nodded his head slightly as he returned his gaze to Sam.

"I just received a call from Charlie Swan." My dad responded, "His daughter, Bella, is showing the symptoms of the change."

"What?!" A million and one ideas flew through my head, staring with my father being on drugs and ending with this whole week being some hallucination caused by my fever.

Both men threw me sharp glances, "She's running an extremely high temperature and she's under horrible pain, both prominent signs of a pre-phase wolf. My guess is that the change is happening at an advanced rate… what I can't figure out though, is why?"

"Where would her bloodline come from, if this really is a change and not some disease?" Sam interjected.

My dad gave him a confused look, "You don't know?" Sam raised an eyebrow instead of responding, "Bella's grandmother was your aunt… granted she was much older than your father."

Sam seemed to be in a state of shock, but I ignored him for the sake of my friend, "Do you have any ideas?"

"Perhaps her long-term exposure to the Cullens caused her survival instinct into forcing her wolf back in order to protect her…" My father thought for a moment, "I don't know what would cause such a rapid change, though… She has been spending a lot of time around you Jake, but that wouldn't cause this…" He paused, "Did anything happen yesterday that might have done this- anything out of the ordinary?"

I went over the previous night, stuttering to a stop as I realized what was different from any other time Bella and I had been together, "We kissed." I mumbled, blushing and looking at my feet.

"These ears are quite old, Jacob, you'll have to speak up if you want me to hear you." My father replied in an exasperated tone.

I cleared my throat, "I walked her to her front door, in typical Bella fashion she tripped, and we kissed… But I don't understand how that would make her change…?"

Sam laughed darkly, "You didn't just give her a peck, did you?" I shook my head slowly, unsure where he was going with this, "Your saliva, the DNA of a wolf on the verge of shifting, most likely kicked her body into overdrive… that's my guess at least."

"So, you're saying this is _my_ fault?!" The indignation in my voice said more than my words. My dad flinched, rolling back slightly, "I would never expose _anyone_ to this, this… curse- especially not Bella!"

Sam held up his hand, making shushing motions, "I know, Jake, I know. Your thoughts earlier proved that you would never do her any intentional harm. You would walk over burning coals with a smile for that girl, that's why I forbid you from telling her."

I growled, a strange form of protectiveness running over me, "All of this doesn't matter! What matters is that Bella is going through this with only Charlie, who has no clue what's going on! We need to go over there and help her!" I was panting and pointing at the still open doorway by the time I had finished.

"You're right… of course you're right." My dad stated then started wheeling himself to the door.

* * *

The trip to the Swan house felt interminably long in the Rabbit. I was driving, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly I knew my fingers were forming marks on the plastic. Sam was riding shotgun, tapping his fingers against the door in his agitation. My father sat behind me, his chair stored in the trunk for the trip.

"Does anyone have a plan?" I inquired, breaking the silence, "We can't exactly go in there and expect Charlie to believe Bella's turning into a giant wolf because his mother was Quileute… can we?"

Sam snorted, "I doubt we'll have much other option based on everything that's going on… We can barely expect the man to believe she's just got some weird flu that only those with Native blood can get and it's changing her physically."

"So… we're telling him?"

"We have to." My dad jumped in, "Charlie has been my friend since we were children, he knows the stories- all he needs is proof to reveal the truth in them."

"You make it sound so easy." I commented, not quite understanding my father's train of thought- he didn't want one of us to _phase_ for _Charlie_, did he? He'd shoot the one to do it without a second thought… and that would go over like a sack of hammers.

I pulled onto Bella's road, my dad remaining silent. I slowed down, not really wanting to arrive- despite my earlier brash words- and face the firing squad, so to speak. Pulling up the drive, I set the car in park, but left it running- perhaps if I hurried, I would be able to avoid Charlie altogether. A shill scream pierced the air, chasing all ideas of avoidance from me. I jumped from my seat, grabbing the keys as I went and denting the door in the process, and yelling for Sam to help my father.

I barged through the door, noting in the back of my mind that this was becoming a habit. Making my way up the stairs, I slid on the upstairs hallway, slamming one shoulder into the door opposite the stairs. Pushing off the wood, which was luckily undamaged, I used the momentum to dash to Bella's bedroom door that was standing open. I caught myself on the doorframe and swung around to see Charlie barely holding down a thrashing Bella. Her cries echoed around the small room like a banshee's wails, and her fingers left angry red lines down her father's arms. I quickly took Charlie's place, using my superior strength to force the struggling girl down. I could hardly believe the amount of strength I had to exert in order to keep her in place. Using one arm to hold her torso down, careful of where I placed my hand, I gathered her wrists with the other hand, just managing to keep my grip on the flailing limbs despite the fact my fingers encircled her wrists completely. Her arms twisted and turned, trying to escape my grasp.

I dully noticed Sam entering the room, carrying my father in his arms. He set my dad in Bella's desk chair before striding over to my side, pushing past a still-stunned Charlie on the way. I instinctively bowed my head, exposing my neck to my alpha. He ignored me, choosing instead to hold Bella's head in place by placing a hand on either side of it.

"Bella," He began, the alpha timbre already obvious in his voice, "look at me." Her eyelids opened reluctantly, "Bella, calm down." She quieted, ceasing her struggles against my hold. With the lack of noise from Bella's thrashing, the sounds of bones grinding and muscles ripping became apparent. I gasped in dismay, knowing that she must be in absolute agony.

"What the hell is going on?!" Charlie's exclamation reminded me of his presence in the room, and I slowly turned to face the equally furious and distressed man, "Billy, why did Bella say I have to call you? What is Sam doing here? What the _fuck_ did he do to my daughter?" His shoulders were heaving by the time he had finished his questioning rant, and though he was looking between my father and I, it was Sam who answered.

"Charlie, what do you remember of our stories?"

* * *

**Bella**

There are many different types of pain in this broad world of ours. From something as small and trivial as a bee sting or pin prick, growing and worsening to the agony of terminal illnesses. I've experienced many forms of pain throughout my life, from stubbed toes to broken bones, paper cuts to muscle parting gashes. The burn of James' bite was the worst torture my body had been subjected to in my short life, until _now_, that is.

I felt as if some sadist had thrown me onto an archaic rack, tying me down and slowly tearing my bones and tendons apart- each new moment of torment washing the last from my body like boulders running over my body. I was a fallen Sisyphus, and my punishment was never ending.

Sam Uley's voice broke through the haze of my pain, commanding me to still. Something about his tone or words forced me to obey, to bend to his will. My body stopped thrashing, and my eyes opened to the dimly lit room, the only light coming from the dawn breaking through the window. My sight was blurry, yet I could still make out Sam's figure leaning over me. Glancing to my left, I caught sight of a familiar outline- Jake.

I blinked and the room became clearer, but the torture continued to rage through my body. I noticed Charlie standing off to one side, looking unsure of what to do, Billy sat behind him, one hand extended to hold Charlie's wrist, most likely to prevent him from approaching me. They were talking, I could see their mouths moving, yet their words were incomprehensible to me. In fact, the only thing I could hear over the blood pounding through my ears was Sam's voice. Odd that it was so clear, despite the fact that he was practically whispering.

"Bella," I found is strange he kept starting every sentence with my name, "Bella, you're going to go to sleep, okay?" I nodded slowly, "And you're not going to wake up until the pain's lessened." My eyelids drifted closed millimetre by millimetre, and my mind was enveloped in darkness, which seemed to be becoming a familiar friend,

* * *

**3****rd**

After Bella had gone back to sleep, finally separated from the pain enough to allow her mind to rest, the group made their way downstairs. Charlie led them into the kitchen, Jake was carrying Billy this time, and they moved to sit around the counter. Charlie went to retrieve beer from the fridge, but froze halfway there and changed course to go to the corner cabinet. From it, he pulled a bottle of Jameson and three rocks glasses from the same shelf, pausing in thought for a moment- he took down a fourth glass. Retracing his steps to the counter, he began pouring out several fingers of the liquor into each glass. After he had filled the drinks, he passed one to each person.

Jake looked up in shock and disbelief when he received his drink, but didn't comment further. Charlie collapsed into his own seat and immediately downed his drink in one, and after pouring himself another, he turned to Billy, "I've told you what I remember of your stories, now I want you to tell me _exactly_ what is happening to my daughter." His words were clipped, stressing his impatience.

Billy sipped his glass and cleared his throat, "Well, I'm not sure how to say this, Charlie, but I'm just going to say it- all of the stories are true." Charlie blinked, unsure of how to react to the statement.

"You mean that animals were at one point people that wore masks and that-"

"I _mean,_ that the tribe really are descended from wolves," Billy cut in, "and that even now La Push is being patrolled by shifters- werewolves to you."

Charlie's eyebrows reached his hairline, "You realize what you're saying is insane, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We're all crazy." Jake responded, "Follow me." Jake stood and walked out the back door, not bothering to check who all was following him. Making his way to the middle of the yard, he started stripping. Sam and Charlie stood just outside the door. Within moments, Jake had laid all his clothing off to one side and phased.

Charlie's hand immediately went for his gun, which he was- luckily for Jake- not wearing. His face went pale, his hands clenched- going to his sides when he realized his sidearm was still in the house.

Sam moved so that he was between the spooked man and large wolf. He raised his arms in a calming manner, "It's alright, I promise, it's just Jacob." Charlie let out a shuddering breath, questioning what tricks his mind was playing on him. Sam turned so that he could look at Jake yet still watch the Chief out of the corner of his eye, "Jacob, I want you to call Embry and Jared here, and tell Paul he's on patrol duty." Jake gave a nod and then let out a loud howl.

Charlie flinched and stepped back towards the house, said step caused him to stumble over an upturned rock and have to fight to regain his balance. By grabbing hold of the doorframe, he was able to avoid falling over. He sighed in relief, closing his eyes for a minute before opening them and taking another deep breath, "Werewolves, huh?"

* * *

**Bella**

The light shining through my eyelids woke me, a nice respite from the pain I had been in earlier. I stretched, wondering if the whole episode had been some dream, but I was forced to recognise it as reality when my muscles registered themselves in my brain- more specifically, the aches that accompanied the greeting. I rolled over the side of the bed, taking part of the blankets with me on my trip downward. I took a moment to revel when I managed to catch myself before I hit the ground with my face. I slowly stood, my legs nearly giving out when I put my full weight on them. Fog surrounded my mind again when I was completely upright and I swayed, unable to find a centre of gravity. My stomach turned over and I gagged. My throat contracted. I coughed twice then managed to gasp into a semblance of control.

Walking into the hallway, I could hear Charlie and Billy downstairs- they must have been practically yelling for me to hear them from where I stood. I stalked quietly to the steps and then down them. By the landing, I was able to make out distinct words- but what they were saying made no sense… Then I remembered the stories Jake told me on the beach- so, so long ago. The stories that caused me to realize what the Cullens were… what _he _was. Realization passed over me- an epiphany of sorts- and I fell forward. My heel caught on the edge of the top step and I shifted my weight so I was falling forward. I landed in a crouched position, still remaining silent somehow. I walked the rest of the way to the kitchen, not bothering to conceal my footsteps. I leaned up against the doorframe, my arms crossed.

"So, werewolf- huh?" I asked sardonically, surprising the room.


End file.
